


Drinking Crew

by ami_ven



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (Reboot)
Genre: Gen, Social drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm just not sure this is such a good idea, captain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Crew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> birthday present for "scandalbaby"

“I’m just not sure this is such a good idea, captain,” said Scott, eying the neat row of shot glasses on the table in front of them. “The repairs to the _Enterprise_ —”

“—will take seventy-two hours, at least,” Kirk interrupted. “And no ranks, Scotty. We’re off duty.”

“Aye, but, sir—”

“ _Jim_ , Scotty. It’s Jim.”

“Aye, but, Jim—”

“Scotty! Admiral Pike _personally_ assumed command to oversee the repairs, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All right,” Scott said, with an overly-dramatic sigh, then frowned. “Isn’t there any Scotch?”

“Maybe later,” said Kirk. “Mr. Chekov is the man of the hour, so we’re starting with good old-fashioned Russian vodka.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Chekov, who was flushed a little pink, even though they hadn’t started drinking yet. “I mean, Jim.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kirk assured him. “Now, where’s that Vulcan with our booze?”

Spock appeared and set a bottle at the center of the large round table. “If your intent was to embarrass me by insisting that I purchase this alcoholic beverage,” he said, sliding into the booth beside Uhura, “then you did not succeed.”

“It was worth a try, though,” said Kirk, grinning, and grabbed the bottle. He filled each shot glass, then slid one across the table. “Pavel, show us how it’s done.”

Chekov squared his shoulders, then took the glass and downed it in one smooth motion. “Excellent choice, Mr. Spock,” he said, and the Vulcan nodded in acknowledgment.

McCoy reached for another shot. “Then you ought to taste it, Spock. C’mon, drink up.”

“Is that your professional medical advice, doctor?” asked Spock, deadpan as always.

“You bet your green-blooded ass,” he said, and knocked back the shot.

“When I do something vaguely heroic in future,” said Scott, ponderingly, holding his own shot glass up to eye level and peering at the clear liquid inside. “Can we all drink Scotch in my honor?”

“Absolutely,” said Kirk, without hesitation. “Drink up, everyone.”

Sulu and Uhura both saluted Chekov with their glasses and drank, leaving Kirk and Spock the only ones still completely sober. 

The captain raised his own glass. “Cheers, Spock.”

The Vulcan arched an eyebrow, gingerly picked up the last full glass— and drank it in a single swallow. “This was indeed a fine selection,” he said. “A compliment to your heritage, Mr. Chekov.”

“Thank you, sir!” the younger man said brightly.

Kirk picked up the bottle again. “You all sound much too coherent. Another round for everyone…”

“Are ye sure ye can drive this thing?” Scott asked, sometime later, which might have been a more valid question if he hadn’t been leaning so heavily on the side of the hover-car.

Keenser rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, half-turned to watch the rest of the crew getting into the vehicle.

Sulu had immediately slumped against the back window, possibly passed out but probably just asleep, and Chekov had flopped into the seat beside him, leaning against the helmsman’s shoulder. Uhura was far too giggly, but operating under her own power. She was arm-in-arm with McCoy, letting the doctor pretend he was being chivalrous, instead of that he’d walked into three tables, four chairs and two people on the way out of the bar.

“ _How_ are you not drunk?” Kirk demanded, as Spock tried to help him into the hover-car. 

“As I endeavored to explain, several times,” Spock replied, “Vulcans metabolize alcohol differently than humans do. Therefore, I am not affected in the same way.”

“Yeah, but you’re half human! Your mom was— Damn. I wasn’t supposed to mention your mom.”

“To what purpose, captain?”

“ _Jim_ ,” Kirk insisted. “It’s Jim.”

“Very well. Jim. To what purpose were you avoiding mention of my mother?”

“Because she’s dead,” said Kirk, with drunken honesty. “Your whole planet is gone. And I know that makes you sad, no matter how computerized and unemotional you pretend to be. But you _are_ half-human. So, I figured if we got you hammered enough, you might, you know…”

“Grieve?” Spock suggested, mildly.

“Yeah.”

“I have come to terms with my loss,” said Spock. “Perhaps it is not exactly ‘grieving’ as humans think of it, but I am at peace. Nevertheless, I appreciate the sentiment of your gesture, even if I do not completely condone the method.”

“Um, you’re welcome?” said Kirk, who had glazed over a bit. He got into the hover-car and collapsed into the seat with a groan. “I’m gonna regret this tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Most assuredly,” Spock agreed.

THE END


End file.
